This week has been... rough, to put it lightly. But thankfully there was a sense of reprieve half-way through.
It came in the form of peanut brittle.
Seeing that I have never tried this confection prior, it was a pleasant treat. The story behind is is sweeter, and juicier.
There I was, making sauce for the kale chips in the commercial co-op kitchen that Rawk-n-Roll Cuisine shares. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Peanut Brittle Man (Yes. Capitalized.) saunter in. He has a timid, mousy demeanor, bushy, indie kid beard, and glasses. I have no idea why, but he reminds me of a Keebler elf. He looked at me and asked,
"Do you mind if I borrow some latex gloves?"
I nodded and lead him over to where they live.
Ten minutes later...
"Are all of you guys vegan here?"
I retorted saying that I am vegetarian and Richard, our manager is omnivorous, and Kim is the only vegan.
"Do you want some candy?"
I paused. My inner child wagged her finger at me and told me, "What did they tell us in school... not to take candy from strangers!" Suffocating her with a giant proverbial pillow I took the candy. There, I said it. I took the god damned candy.
Thats when it all began.
First, it was the coconut coffee brittle. Five minutes later he came back with a chai flavored and a chili pumpkin seed flavor. All mouth watering. All scrumdiddlyumptious.
But with a price.
Some time passed then, Peanut Brittle Man shuffled back into our kitchen. I turned the vita-mix off, so I could hear his soft voice.
"So, you live in Echo Park, right?"
I explained that I used to (how he knew this, I have no idea).
"Have you heard of Mooey? It's this new raw food restaurant."
I tell him that I have heard mixed reviews. That the environment is very nice but the food doesn't deliver, according to my sources.
"Well, I've heard they have good ice cream."
Mind you, my co-workers Kim and Richard are standing right next to us. I am standing in front of the vita-mix waiting to flip the switch again and get back to work. Everything is in a very tense state of social stratification. Limbo, if you must!
"I think I'll go check it out sometime. It seems really cool..."
I encourage him to do that and turn the blender back on. Everything becomes a comforting auditory blur, once again.
Ten minutes later...
Peanut Brittle Man pops his head in the door one last time, "Do you guys want me to keep this door between us open or closed?"
Kim tells him it doesn't matter.
We all get back to business. Straining not to crack up. You could cut the awkwardness with a knife. Not that I'm one to hack on people who are awkward. It was endearing in a way, if it is of any consolation!
Later on, I tell one of my best friends, Sharon about the whole incident. She was so inspired by the hilarity, she wrote a haiku about it:
Peanut brittle love
Awkward restaurant offer
Please don't close door!
God, I love her.
Pay her a visit!